


(I Feel in My Heart) The Start of Something New

by sunsetmagnolia



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band), All Time Low (Band), One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School Musical Fusion, It's literally HSM1, Louis is Sharpay... I think that explains it best, M/M, Multi, almost word for word, the result of a 3 am discussion in a group text, you can figure out the rest of them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:02:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25924825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunsetmagnolia/pseuds/sunsetmagnolia
Summary: “What’s up?” Ashton asks. “Well, you missed free period practice to audition for some heinous musical, and now suddenly people are confessing things. Harry?” Harry looks up at them from his lunch. “Harry is baking. Crème brûlée.”“Oh? What’s that?” Calum asks, genuinely curious.“It’s a creamy custard filling with a caramelized surface, it’s really satisfying—”
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Luke Hemmings/Calum Hood, Michael Clifford/Ashton Irwin
Comments: 6
Kudos: 20





	(I Feel in My Heart) The Start of Something New

It’s snowing, there’s a teen New Year’s party raging in a lounge somewhere, and Luke is curled up on a couch in his hotel room, wearing an old hoodie, reading a book. He’s almost done with it, and the mystery has such a strong hold on him that he doesn’t even notice his mom walking into the room, dressed for a party. Oh, right, there’s a party he was meant to go to.

“Luke,” she says, tired of begging him to socialize. “It’s New Year’s Eve, enough reading.” She takes the book from his hands, but knows him well enough to slide his bookmark into the open page before shutting it.

“Mom, I’m almost done and—”

“The teen party? You promised you’d go. I ironed your best shirt, now go get ready.”

Luke grabs onto her arm as she turns to leave. “Can I at least have my book back?”

She sighs and hands it to him, making sure he’s actually going to get changed before she leaves.

Calum is trying to get past his dad to make a basket. Having spent the whole day snowboarding has done nothing to make him too tired for it, especially when Alex looks more tired than he does. “Keep working left,” his dad says, passing him the ball. Calum fakes right and goes left, easily making the shot. They both turn around when his mom clears her throat from the doorway.

“Boys?” Alex stops trying to wrestle the ball from Calum’s hands. “Did we really fly all this way to play more basketball?”

Alex and Calum look at each other and back at her. “Yeah?” they say at the same time. Calum at least feels guilty about it.

“It’s the last night of vacation. The party? Remember?” She holds her arms out and sure enough, a sparkly green shawl is draped over her shoulders, looking way too fancy for another night in their hotel room watching movies and being yelled at to go to bed on time.

“Right! The party!” Alex says, handing the ball off to Calum. “New Year’s Eve.”

She ignores his terrible memory. “Calum, there’s a kids’ party going on downstairs in the freestyle club.”

“A kids’ party?” he asks skeptically.

“A young adults party, now go shower up.”

“One more?” Calum asks. His mom rolls her eyes fondly and gestures for him to go ahead. He steps back, lines it up, and shoots. The ball flies smoothly through the net.

Twenty minutes later, Calum is walking into the strangest party he’s ever seen. There are teens sitting at tables and chatting over snack foods, teens in funny hats playing table soccer, teens dancing awkwardly near the middle of the room where a couple is doing karaoke on a little stage. Too many teens. And none of them look anything like his teammates. He makes his way over to the other side of the room, farthest away from the stage.

Luke walks into the party and immediately it’s too loud. If he didn’t want his mom to worry about him being alone in their hotel room all night, he would have much preferred to stay there and finish his book. He brought the book with him anyway. With a little effort, all the lights and sounds would fade into white noise and he could finally find out who the murderer was. A girl in a comically large cowboy hat says howdy as he passes by, making him giggle. He scans the room for a place to sit and finds a spot at the end of a red couch, where it looks like people aren’t particularly interested in chatting, settling in and opening his book back up.

The couple on stage finishes their song, and the party host, or DJ, or whoever he was, has the crowd cheer for them. Calum halfheartedly joins in the applause as the girl blows kisses to the crowd and then leaps off the stage and back to her friends, who are all squealing and jumping around her. “Who’s gonna rock the house next?” the host asks, and suddenly there’s a spotlight circling the room, looking for victims.

People start yelling and pointing fingers at their reluctant friends, and it’s so predictable that Calum fights a yawn, considering just going back to his room and telling his mom he was too tired from snowboarding to stay up til midnight. And then one of the spotlights lands on him.

Luke is hunched over his book, fully invested in the story, when a light lands on him, bright enough to make him blink when he looks up.

“I’m not a singer,” Calum says to no avail as some people standing near him start cheering and pushing him toward the stage.

“You,” the host says, pointing at Calum. “And you.” He walks over to the couch and takes Luke’s hand, making him drop the book on the seat beside him. Someone else pulls his other arm to get him to stand up as the guy pulls him up to the stage.

“I can’t sing, really,” Calum insists, but he’s shoved up onto the stage anyway. He looks to his left and the other boy on stage had to be around his age, arms wrapped around himself, clearly nervous. Calum looks around the room warily. It’s too late, he thinks, to get out of this. Granted, he doesn’t know any of these people. If he decided to drop the mic and run out of the room, no one would know who he was to laugh at him later. Unless someone gets it on video. He decides it’s not worth the risk.

“Someday you guys might thank me for this,” the host says, handing Calum the microphone. Calum takes another look at his… singing partner? _He’s pretty_ is really the only thought that he has time to process before the music starts.

Calum knows the song, and his partner doesn’t look like he’s about to start singing, so he takes the first part cautiously. He sings the first half of the verse and then pauses, takes a step back, and starts to turn around, sure he’s just made a fool of himself, when his partner starts singing.

Luke doesn’t want to be on stage, he would rather be anywhere else in fact, but the boy on stage next to him was too cute to leave hanging. Besides, he has years of practice standing at the back in choir, this isn’t _that_ different. He takes a deep breath and starts to sing, and the cute boy steps back up to his mic to join him.

Calum was not expecting his partner to sing at all, let alone have a beautiful voice, so he almost surprises himself when he finds himself staring at the other boy, and then looking away when he realized they are singing a love song and they don’t know each other well enough to be looking into each other’s eyes as they sing. He does notice his partner’s eyes are bright blue, and now that he’s singing, he looks a little less nervous, smiling though his arms are still crossed tightly across his chest.

Calum takes the lead on the second verse as well, feeling weirdly proud of the cute giggle he gets from the other boy as he dramatically whips his blazer off. He pulls his mic off the stand and starts to kind of move with the music, pleased to see his partner following his lead by uncrossing his arms and holding onto his mic with both hands.

They’re smiling at each other and mostly ignoring the rest of the room as they sing. The crowd has gone from milling around and chatting to watching the two of them on stage, chemistry undeniable. Calum dips the mic stand like an old rock star and Luke laughs, pulling his mic off the stand and turning to face Calum as he starts to get into the music, closing his eyes to belt the high note at the bridge. From then on they’re both fully into it. Calum reaches out toward Luke and Luke just sings more boldly.

By the time they’ve finished the song, they’re standing a lot closer to each other, breathing deeply, looking into each other’s eyes until the moment bursts with applause. Calum holds out his hand. “I’m Calum.”

“Luke,” he replies, taking his hand and more holding it than shaking. They smile at each other for another minute until the host is shuffling them off the stage to get the next people up.

“But seriously, you have an amazing voice,” Calum says, tugging his coat back on as they step outside onto the balcony. Luke smiles and holds tight to his mug of hot cocoa. “You must be a singer, right?”

“Just school choir for a while. I tried out for a solo one time and nearly fainted.”

“Really? Why’s that?”

“I took one look at all the people staring at me and next thing I knew I was staring at the ceiling. End of solo career,” he says lightly, hoping it was clear that this whole experience was an anomaly.

“Well, with the way you sang tonight that’s pretty hard to believe,” Calum says.

“That was the first time I’ve done something like that, but it was so cool.”

“Yeah, completely.”

“You sounded like you’ve done a lot of singing too.”

“Oh sure, my showerhead is very impressed with me,” Calum jokes, and they both laugh. They notice at the same time that everyone around them, inside and out, has started counting down from ten.

 _Eight._ Luke is still holding his mug close to his chest.

 _Six._ Calum wonders if he’s even the type to kiss someone he just met barely an hour ago, and then wonders if Luke is either.

 _Three. Two. One._ People around them start cheering and setting off noisemakers, and in the distance there are fireworks in bright reds and blues. Luke and Calum look at each other, and then Luke scrambles to leave. “I should go find my mom and wish her a happy new year, yeah?”

“Yeah, me too,” Calum says hurriedly. “Not your mom, my mom. And dad. Um, I’ll call you? Yeah, I’ll call you tomorrow!” Calum digs his phone out of his pocket and worries for half a second if Luke is even into the idea but then they’re both holding their phones out to each other, typing in numbers and names and handing them back.

Calum stares down at Luke’s number with a little smiley emoji by his name. “Just so you know, singing with you is the most fun I’ve had on this entire vacation. So, um, where do you live?” he asks, pocketing his phone. No response. He looks up and around, and Luke has disappeared into the crowd. Calum turns back around to where the fireworks are still going. “Luke,” he mumbles to himself, smiling.

ONE WEEK LATER, ALBUQUERQUE, NEW MEXICO

Calum walks off the school bus and onto his campus to find Ashton and the rest of his team playing keep-away with a group of cheerleaders. He’s only two steps off the bus when he’s surrounded by them, Ashton leading the charge.

“How’s it going, man?” Ashton asks, swinging an arm around Calum’s shoulders so enthusiastically it almost throws him off balance.

Someone else goes in for a fist bump and Calum doesn’t even pay attention to who it is, just being happy to be back with his friends. “Hey guys, Happy New Year,” he says, grinning.

“It’s gonna be a Happy Wildcat New Year!” Ashton says, looking around for the rest of the team to agree, which of course they do. “Because in two weeks, we’re gonna go to the championships with you,” he hands Calum the basketball, “leading us to infinity and beyond.”

“What team!” someone shouts behind him, and they all shout back.

“Wildcats!”

Louis Tomlinson marches through the halls like he owns the place – and he really might as well. He’s practically untouchable. Being talented got him far in life, but being gorgeous too? That had the whole school wrapped around his finger. His brother trots beside him, not quite running to catch up, but not really walking with any sort of purpose. Louis learned early on, and will tell anyone who listens: walk like you have somewhere important to be, and people will get out of your way.

He has his phone out, texting the group chat all the latest goss from break. He’d spent Christmas with his family, of course, but when it was in a resort hotel with the cutest European boys all around, it was hard to be upset about it. He looks up from his phone in time to catch the eye of a tall blonde in a baseball cap and gives him a wink as he passes, Liam on his heels. Spotting Calum walking in the front door, he looks back down at his phone and lifts his chin, making it clear he has better things to do than talk to any of them. He holds his hands up and the crowd parts like the sea, giving him a clear path out the door. One more selfie to add to his insta story before school starts, to officially ring in the new semester.

“The ice queen has returned from the north pole,” Harry says to Ashton as soon as Louis has passed them, and Ashton laughs.

“You know she probably spent the holidays the way she always does?” Everyone looks at Ashton expectantly. “Shopping for mirrors.” Everyone laughs harder than the joke deserves, but that was just the sort of energy Ashton had.

Luke walks out of the principal’s office with his mom. “Mom,” he starts, and she puts a hand on his back because she knows what he’s going to say.

“You’re always nervous before starting at a new school, but you’ll do great. You always do.” She gives him an encouraging smile. “And I’ve made my company promise not to transfer me anywhere else until after you graduate.”

Luke can’t hold a smile, even just to make his mom feel better.

“Your transcript is impressive, Luke,” the principal says beside him. “I expect your light will shine brightly here at East High.”

Luke sighs, clutching the folder that holds his new class schedule and a map of the campus. He doesn’t want to be the school’s freaky genius kid again. His mom pats his back comfortingly.

“Your first class will be right up those stairs,” the principal says, pointing. Luke goes where he’s told, giving his mom one last pleading look as he climbs up the stairs. He’s not determined to fit in as much as to not stand out. He looks down at the schedule to check the room number and walks til he’s found it.

Calum feels like he’s the only one sitting at his desk and not on top of it. Ashton, Harry, and Jason are tossing a basketball back and forth over him, while Michael, resident science nerd, watches them, shaking his head.

Luke walks into the classroom, looking around for an empty seat – none of which technically seem to be in use – and spots one at the back of the classroom. Perfect. Maybe he can get away with not having any attention on him as the New Kid. He apologizes quietly as he walks between two students.

Calum sees someone he doesn’t recognize walk into the classroom and tries to turn to get a better view, but before he can see anything, Louis is standing in front of him, smiling wide and extremely peppy. “Hi Calum!” he says, tilting his head, trying to look cuter.

“Hi,” Calum says politely, craning his neck to look around Louis but not reaching far enough. The bell rings and everyone settles into their seats as their teacher walks into the room and takes a seat on a velvet-covered chair at the front that could double as a throne.

“I trust you all had splendid holidays,” Mr. Barakat says. “Check the sign-up sheets in the hallway for more activities, Mr. Hood.” Calum snaps his head around to face the front, still wondering who the new boy is. “Especially our winter musical.” He pronounces musical like musi- _Cal_ , making Calum wonder if he’s doing it on purpose to make him feel weird or if that’s just part of how dramatic he is. Ashton taps him on the shoulder and gives him a _you-okay?_ Look. Calum nods. “We will be holding singles auditions for our supporting roles and pairs auditions for our two leads.” Ashton makes a face and holds two thumbs down and Harry giggles. “Mr. Irwin, this is a place of education, not a hockey arena,” Mr. Barakat says, flouncing down the aisle. Ashton closes his mouth and moves his basketball off the desk and onto the floor under his chair. “There is also a final sign-up for next week’s robotics IQ challenge. Robotics club president Michael Clifford will be available for any further questions about that.” Michael smiles and does a small pageant wave.

Calum is checking his phone to see if he could match the new kid at the back of the class to his photo of Luke in his contacts, when someone else’s phone starts to ring. He stares down at his phone for a moment before realizing it’s not his.

Luke, from the back of the room, is digging through his backpack for his phone, immediately feeling stupid for not putting it on silent. It’s probably a spam call, too.

“Ahh, the cell phone menace has returned to our crucible of learning,” Mr. Barakat drones, as Louis and Liam both check their phones to see if it’s one of them being called to attention from their massive popularity. Louis is offended as soon as he realizes it’s not his.

“Louis and Liam, cell phones.” Mr. Barakat is standing beside their desks holding a small bucket labeled _phone jail_ in fancy script, and they both reluctantly put their phones in.

Luke has his phone in his hands, ending the call and putting it on silent when the teacher walks right up to him. “We have zero tolerance for phones in class, so we will get to know each other in detention, Mr. Hemmings,” he says. Luke dejectedly drops his phone into the bucket. “And welcome to East High.”

“Mr. Hood,” Mr. Barakat continues. “I see your phone is also involved, so I will be seeing you in detention as well.”

“No no no, Mr. Barakat, your honor, that’s not a possibility,” Ashton says from behind Calum. “We have basketball practice right after school and Cal—”

“That will be fifteen minutes for you as well, Mr. Irwin. Count ‘em.”

“That could be tough for Ashton, since he probably can’t count that high,” Michael whispers to one of his friends, who manages to bite back a laugh.

“Michael Clifford, fifteen minutes. Shall the carnage continue?” Michael flounders, mildly offended but mostly concerned with making it to robotics club. “Holidays are over, people! Way over! Now, any more comments? Questions?”

Jason holds up his hand and Calum hopes it’s an actual question.

“Jason?” Mr. Barakat says, clearly hoping the same.

“How were your holidays, Mr. Barakat?” Jason asks, and Calum and Ashton both turn to glare at him.

The bell rings blessedly quickly and Calum rushes out of the room. He waits by the lockers in what he hopes is a casual way until Luke walks out, looking for someone. Luke’s eyes widen when he sees Calum.

“Hey!” Calum says quietly, running up to Luke.

“I don’t believe it,” Luke says.

“Me neither. But how…?”

“My mom’s company transferred her here to Albuquerque. I can’t believe you live here, I looked for you at the lodge the next day, but—”

“No, we had to leave first thing in the morning,” Calum whispers.

“Why are you whispering?” Luke asks. He starts to walk and Calum follows.

“What?” Calum says, still in a whisper. “Oh.” He clears his throat. “Um, well, my friends know about the snowboarding thing, I haven’t quite told them about the, _singing._ ” He whispers again on the last word.

Right on cue, one of his teammates walks past, giving him a “Hey, what’s up!”

“Too much for them to handle?” Luke asks. He looks down at the next class on his schedule.

“No, it was fun!” Calum says. “But my friends… it’s not what I do. That was like a different person…” Calum stops in his tracks when Luke takes a sharp left down another hallway and then follows him. “So, anyway, welcome to East High,” Calum says, holding his arms out as they approach the circle, where all the clubs and organizations have their posters and sign-up sheets hanging. “Oh, and now you’ve met Mr. Barakat I bet you just can’t wait to sign up for that.” He points at the theater’s notice board, all decorated with a little red velvet curtain, with an audition sheet pinned in the center for both pairs and singles.

“I won’t be signing up for anything for a while,” Luke says with a cautious smile. “I just wanna get to know the school first. But if you sign up, I’d consider coming to the show.” He smiles at Calum and Calum wrinkles his nose.

“Yeah, that’s completely impossible.”

“What’s impossible, Calum?” Louis asks, appearing out of nowhere with a dazzling smile. He leans up against the theater notice board with one arm. “I wouldn’t think the word ‘impossible’ is in your vocabulary.” He hums, looking Luke up and down. “So nice of you to show our new classmate around.”

Calum looks at Luke but Luke doesn’t look insulted. They both watch as Louis whips out a pen and writes his name in large cursive letters across the whole pairs section of the paper, dotting the I in his first name with a star.

“Oh, were you going to sign up too?” Louis asks innocently when he turns around. Calum and Luke exchange a look. “My brother and I have starred in all the school’s productions. And we really welcome newcomers. There are a lot of _supporting_ roles in the show,” he says pointedly, as if they didn’t already get it. “I’m sure we could find something for you.”

“No,” Luke is quick to say. “I was just looking at all of the bulletin boards.” Calum nods. “There’s lots going on at this school.” Luke makes a show of looking around before he walks past Louis to get to his next class. “Nice penmanship,” he says, leaving Louis confused.

As soon as Luke is gone, Louis walks up closer to Calum, putting on a flirty smile. “Hey Calum, I missed you during vacation. What did you do?”

“Oh, you know,” Calum says, wishing he’d followed Luke. “Played basketball, snowboarding, more basketball.”

“When’s the big game?” Louis asks, fluttering his eyelashes.

“Two weeks,” Calum replies.

“Wow,” Louis sighs. “You are so dedicated. Just like me! I hope you’ll come watch me in the musical. Promise?”

Calum looks at Louis, unable to think of a reason not to. He nods and starts to walk away.

“Toodles!” Louis calls after him. Calum turns and does a little wave back. Louis looks down the other hall in the direction Luke had gone, and glares into the sea of people there, even though Luke is no longer one of them. Luke is bad news, he decides then and there. He can tell. His intuition is never wrong.

It’s time for basketball, and Calum is stretching beside Ashton. Well, Ashton is stretching. Calum is fretting. “So,” Calum says. “You know that musical thing? Is it true you get extra credit just for auditioning?”

Ashton looks up at him from the floor. “Who cares?”

“It’s always good to get extra credit,” Calum says. “For… college.”

“Do you think Lebron James ever auditioned for his school musical?” Ashton asks, laughing like it’s the most ridiculous thing Calum has ever suggested, and he hasn’t even suggested it yet.

“Maybe?”

“Calum. The music in those shows isn’t hip-hop, okay? Or rock. Or anything essential to culture.” Ashton stands up and stretches his arms. “It’s _show_ music. It’s all costumes and makeup and, dude, it’s frightening.”

“Yeah, I know,” Calum says, trying not to sound disappointed that his best friend won’t even give it a second thought. “I just thought it might be a good laugh, you know. Louis is kinda cute too.”

“Yeah, so is a mountain lion. But you don’t pet it.” Ashton leaves to grab a basketball, and Calum is sweating before they’ve even started running drills.

Calum calls for them all to pair off to warm up, and he doesn’t even notice his mind is on Luke and singing until he misses a ball Ashton passes to him and then the whole team is staring at him. Ashton goes and get the ball and keeps it going like nothing happened, until the end of the drill when he hands the ball back a little harder than necessary, leaning in close to Calum’s ear. “Get your head in the game.”

Louis is in the chemistry lab, looking over the tables of beakers with students making measurements and writing things down. He’s not concerned with the assignment at hand; he and his lab partner have a paid agreement. When the teacher stops talking to let them work, Louis walks through a maze of tables to find Luke sitting on the other side of a row of air nozzles. He leans over the table to get a better look at Luke: hair so blonde he’s almost jealous – not that Louis Tomlinson is capable of such a feeling – and blue eyes focused diligently on whatever science he’s writing. “So,” Louis says, making Luke jump a little in surprise. “It seemed like you knew Calum Hood.”

“Not really,” Luke says. “He was just showing me around.”

Louis scoffs. “Well, Calum doesn’t usually interact with… new students.”

“Why not?” Luke turns to look at what the teacher is writing on the board.

“Well, it’s pretty much basketball 24/7 with him.” Louis smiles.

“That should be 16 over pi,” Luke says, leaving Louis confused.

Michael looks up from his seat beside Luke, intrigued at the possibility of someone who’s not him correcting the teacher.

“Yes, Luke?” the teacher says, turning around. Louis ducks down behind the desk so he doesn’t get in trouble for being away from his seat.

“Oh, I’m sorry, it’s just, shouldn’t the second equation be 16 over pi?”

“16?” the teacher asks. “That’s quite impossible.” She looks down at the workbook she’s reading from and does a double take at Luke, blinking. “I stand corrected.” She gives Luke an impressed look, and Luke blushes slightly before writing it down the correct way on his paper.

Michael watches the whole thing with a calculating eye. Louis glowers at Luke. Luke doesn’t notice either of them, just goes back to working out the equations, pleased with himself.

Calum is on his way to class, walking through the circle, past the theater board. He pauses, looks at “Louis Tomlinson” scrawled across the whole top half of the page and a few names on the bottom half for singles… He leans forward, considering, and then back. He glances around to see if anyone is watching him and he’s glad to recognize no one, though they probably all know who he is. There are still empty spots, if he wants to sign up later. He stares at the paper so long he wonders if he could make his name appear there with his mind. In the end, he turns and heads for his next class.

Liam pops out from around the corner, where he’s been keeping an eye on the theater board. He catches his brother’s arm as he’s on his way somewhere, pulling him to the board. “Calum Hood was looking at our board,” Liam says.

“Again?” Louis asks, genuinely surprised. Luke is the one he’d been worried about, but now Calum too? “You know he was hanging around with that new kid? And they were both looking at the list.” Liam looks at the list, thinking. “There’s something freaky about him,” Louis says. “Where’d he say he was from?” Louis looks to Liam for an answer, but Liam is still staring at the notice board. “Ugh,” Louis groans and storms away. Liam is useless, Louis has to do all the work himself around here.

Liam follows Louis to the library. Since they don’t have their phones on them anymore, old-fashioned is the way to go. Louis googles Luke’s name plus San Diego where he’s presumably from, and up pops an article from a local paper that reads “Whiz Kid Leads School to Scholastic Championship” with a photo of a slightly younger Luke holding a trophy amongst his teammates. Louis gives Liam a smug grin before printing out the article.

“Why do you think he’s interested in our musical?” Liam asks.

“I’m not sure that he is,” Louis replies, clearly plotting something or other. “And we needn’t concern ourselves with amateurs. But, there’s no harm in making certain that Luke’s welcomed into the school activities that are, well, appropriate for him.” Liam raises his eyebrows. He’s very used to being pulled along in his brother’s convoluted plans by now. “After all, he loves pi.”

DETENTION

Mr. Barakat is walking from the theater classroom to the stage and giving commands to everyone he passes. “More gold!” he says to a student at a sewing machine, who nods and starts digging around in the fabric box beside her.

“That shade of blue is far too light,” he says to some students painting a huge backdrop. They were about halfway done, but not anymore. They roll their eyes when he passes by and start cleaning their brushes to trade the paint for a darker shade.

Ashton sees him approaching and makes himself very busy painting stripes onto a tree. Luke is adding grey swirls to a giant moon and pauses for half a second when Mr. Barakat gets closer. His mistake. “Paint, paint!” he claps. “Let’s go!”

One of the students is testing out a camel costume, and Mr. Barakat says nothing, judging with just his eyes as he walks by.

Michael manages to sneak behind the camel to get to Luke. “The answer is yes!” he says excitedly.

“Huh?” Luke asks.

“Our robotics team has its first competition next week, and there is certainly a spot for you.” He doesn’t notice he’s pointing with the article printout he’d found in his locker right after school until Luke reaches for it, looking worried.

“Where did those come from?” he asks, staring at the papers.

“Didn’t you put them in my locker?”

Luke didn’t even know where Michael’s locker was. “Of course not.” That would be embarrassing, even for him. He knows he’s smart, but he’s not a show off.

Liam and Louis are painting a tall ladder green a few feet away from them, close enough to eavesdrop. They both stop painting to focus on the conversation.

“Oh, well we’d love to have you on our team,” Michael says happily. “We meet almost every day after school.” Luke doesn’t look convinced. “Please?” he asks, putting on his best smile.

“I need to catch up the curriculum here before I think about joining any clubs,” Luke says nervously.

“But what a perfect way to get caught up!” Louis joins them. He almost leans on the moon but realizes the paint is still wet just in time. “Meeting with the smartest kids in school! What a generous offer, Michael!” Michael suddenly looks nervous himself.

“So many new faces in detention today,” Mr. Barakat says, walking up behind Luke from god knows where. “I hope you don’t make a habit of it, but the drama club can always use an extra hand.” He walks up to the front of the stage. Calum is sitting on top of the tree that Ashton is still painting stripes on, stapling leaves to the branches. “And while we are working, let us probe the mounting evils of cell phones.”

Alex is in the gym. His team is running drills, but there’s at least one kid missing. He does a quick head count, no, two of them are gone. And one of them is his son. He blows his whistle and the team gathers around him. “Where’s Calum and Ashton?” Every one of them avoids eye contact. “Don’t make me ask again.” Silence. “Where’s Calum and Ashton?” he says louder.

“Detention,” they all mumble.

Alex takes a deep breath and tells them to keep going while he goes to get his delinquents.

Calum is sitting in the tree. He’d made a long stem for one of the leaves, so he’s dangling it over Ashton, who may or may not be asleep standing up. Mr. Barakat is still standing center stage, monologuing. “And one notably heinous example of cell phone abuse is ringing the theater. What temerity! The theater is a temple of art, a precious cornucopia of creative energy, a—”

“Where’s my team, Jack!” Alex bursts in through the doors at the back of the auditorium. He walks up one of the aisles and Calum’s eyes get wide. “What the heck are those two doing in a tree?!”

“It’s called crime and punishment, Gaskarth. Besides, proximity to the arts is enriching for the soul.”

Alex points at Jack. “Can we have a talk? Please? And you two, get to the gym. Now.”

Calum clambers down from the tree and grabs Ashton’s arm, dragging him bodily off the stage and past his fuming dad.

Jack stubbornly walks down the steps. Luke watches Calum and Ashton leave, thanking whatever higher power that neither of his parents are so dramatic.

Alex is in the principal’s office, feeling altogether like he was sent there for fighting with his classmate. He glances at said classmate, Jack, who he’s very used to arguing with. Jack looks over it, which is even annoying since he’s the one who put two of his team members in detention two weeks before a championship game in the first place. As if there weren’t other ways to punish them for… whatever they did. “If they have to paint sets for detention, they can do it tonight, not during my practice.”

Jack turns to him and starts waving his hands as he speaks. “If these were theater performers instead of athletes, would you seek special treatment?” Alex has to fight not to roll his eyes.

“Jack, we are days away from our biggest game of the year.”

“And we, _Alex_ , are in the midst of our auditions for our winter musical as well.” He turns to the principal. “This school is about more than young men in baggy shorts flinging _balls_ for _touchdowns_!”

“Baskets!” Alex shouts. “They shoot baskets!” He looks over at the principal, whose face is neutral. Her office is littered with basketball trophies, thanks to his team. Jack opens his mouth like he has another point to make but she interrupts him.

“Guys, stop.” Alex and Jack both turn to her. “You’ve been having this argument since the day you both started teaching here. We are one school, one student body, one faculty. Can we not agree on that?” Alex and Jack share a begrudging sneer. “So coach, how’s the team looking? Calum got ‘em whipped into shape?”

Jack sighs exaggeratedly and flounces out of the room.

Alex is back in the gym with his boys. He blows the whistle. “West High Knights have knocked us out of the playoffs three years running. And now we are one game away from taking that championship right back from them.” He walks along the line of boys, staring each of them down to make his point. “It’s time to make our stand. The team is you. You are the team. And this team does not exist unless each and every one of you is fully focused on our goal. Am I clear?”

Ashton holds his arms out. “What team?”

“Wildcats!” the rest of them respond in unison.

“Wildcats!” Ashton yells. They all reach forward to put their hands on the ball.

“Getcha head in the game!”

Luke is walking across the lawn after detention. He’d had to text his mom to pick him up a little later. He had lies prepared about having to talk to teachers and whatnot, but luckily she didn’t ask why. Michael is walking beside him, chatting passionately about his club. “We’ve never made it past the first round of this robotics competition. You could be our answered prayer.”

“I’m gonna focus on my studies this semester,” he says for the millionth time. “And help my mom get the house organized. Maybe next semester.” Before Michael can object, he asks, “What do you know about Calum Hood?”

“Calum?” Michael asks, raising his eyebrows. “I wouldn’t consider myself an expert on that particular subspecies, however, if you know how to speak cheerleader…” Michael grabs his wrist and pulls him up to a group of cheerleaders gathered by presumably one of their cars. “Oh my god, isn’t Calum just the hottest?” The cheerleaders all start giggling and fawning over just the mention of his name, and Michael pulls Luke past them. “See what I mean?”

“I guess I don’t know how to speak cheerleader.” Luke laughs a little.

“That’s why we exist in an alternate universe.”

“Have you tried to get to know him?” Luke asks.

Michael smirks like he knows something. “Watch how it works in the cafeteria tomorrow when you have lunch with us. Unless you want to sit with the cheerleaders.”

Luke looks over to see one of the girls do a backflip and land in a split on the grass. Robotics club it is.

Calum’s in his driveway with his dad, practicing free throws. “I still don’t understand this whole detention thing.”

“It was my fault. Sorry dad.”

“Across the court.” Alex passes him the ball. “You know Jack will take any opportunity to bust my chops, and that includes yours too.”

Calum makes a basket and catches his breath while his dad jogs to retrieve it. “Hey dad? Did you ever get afraid to try something new, but you were worried of what your friends might think?”

“You mean like going left? You’re doing fine, come on.”

Calum does a quick turn and makes the shot over his dad’s head. “No, I mean, what if you want to try something really new and it’s a total disaster and all your friends laugh at you?”

“Then they’re not really your friends,” Alex says matter-of-factly. “That was my whole point with the team today. You guys gotta look out for each other, and you’re the leader.”

“But dad, I’m not talking about—”

“There’s gonna be college scouts at the game next week, Cal. You know what a scholarship is worth these days?”

Calum sighs and nods. “A lot.”

“Yeah. Now focus, come on.” Alex hands him the ball. Calum goes left.

It’s another sunny New Mexico day. Louis walks up to Mr. Barakat’s desk and hands him a little red tin of coffee with a bow on it. “Just something for you.” Louis smiles. Never a bad time to kiss up to a teacher, and never a better time than right before acing an audition for a lead role in your eighteenth school production in a row. He goes back to his desk.

Luke is in his seat at the back of homeroom. He catches Calum’s eye and gives him a grin, which Calum returns, right as the bell rings and Mr. Barakat walks up to Calum.

“I expect we all learned our homeroom manners yesterday, correct?” Calum ducks down into his seat, but turns back to smile at Luke. “If not, we have some dressing rooms that need painting.” Luke laughs softly. “Now, a few announcements.” Mr. Barakat steps up onto his small stage. “This morning during free period will be your chance for the musical auditions, both single and pairs.” Louis claps his hands together eagerly. “I will be in the theater until noon for those of you bold enough to extend the wingspan of your creative spirit…” He holds his arms out like wings.

Ashton taps Calum’s shoulder and leans forward, whispering, “What time is he due back on the mothership?” Calum fake laughs. Mr. Barakat starts talking about Shakespeare.

Calum shoves his books into his locker. Right as he shuts the door, Ashton walks up to him, already carrying a basketball. “Hey man, the whole team’s hitting the gym during free period, what do you wanna have us run?”

“Um,” Calum says. “You know what? I can’t make it, I gotta catch up on some homework.”

“What?” Ashton laughs. “It’s only the second day back, I’m not even behind on homework yet, and you know I’ve been behind on homework since preschool.”

Calum laughs too. “That’s hilarious, I’ll catch you later.” And he takes a hard right down the hall, away from the gym.

Ashton is frozen for a few seconds. _Homework?_ That was a bad excuse if he ever heard one. He follows Calum.

Calum knows Ashton is on his tail. He ducks into a classroom that he knows has two doors and says hello to one of his classmates from last year who he doesn’t really know all that well. Benefit of being popular. He keeps one eye on the door, knowing Ashton is right outside, waits til Ashton is distracted by someone else saying hi to him – benefit of being popular – and hurries to walk out the second door, sneaking past Ashton, who’s leaning into the classroom looking for him.

Calum runs down the stairs and outside, narrowly escaping his dad by taking a shortcut through the garage where a bunch of students are working on metal and woodshop projects. One of the teachers gives him a skeptical look and he mumbles something about being late for class before walking back into the building.

He finds a janitor’s cart without a janitor outside the bathroom closest to the auditorium and sneaks backstage by hiding behind the mops, which are luckily just as tall as he is. A group of students – led by Louis obviously – walks into the auditorium from the back, following Mr. Barakat, who has a small judging table set up near the front, complete with tablecloth. Calum jumps behind the curtain when Mr. Barakat walks up the steps to the stage, clapping his hands so that the lingering students will clear off.

“This,” Mr. Barakat says, holding his arms out, “is where the true expression of the artist is realized, where inner truth is revealed through the actor’s journey, where—” The bell goes off. “Was that a cell phone?”

All the students near the front scramble for their phones in their pockets and bags. “No, sir, that was the warning bell,” Zayn says quietly beside him.

“Ah. Those wishing to audition must understand that time is of the essence. We have many roles to cast and final callbacks will be next week. First, you will sing a few bars and I will give you a sense of whether or not the theater is your calling. Better to hear it from me now than from your friends later. Our composer, Zayn Malik, will accompany you and will be available for rehearsals prior to callbacks. Shall we?”

Calum sneaks around the side of the stage and, behind his trusty mops, makes his way to the very back row of the auditorium, where he hides in one of the seats and watches one student after another try their hardest. Louis and Liam cringe from their seats. Zayn gives them encouraging yet shocked looks from the piano. And Mr. Barakat doesn’t hold back. Each new comment only serves to make Calum more and more nervous. He doesn’t even know what he’s doing there, missing practice, lying to his friends. One of the soloists sings so operatically that Zayn stops playing halfway through her high note and Calum thinks he might have heard a glass shatter.

“Ah, Cindra,” Mr. Barakat says. “What courage to sing a note that has not been accessed in the natural world. Bravo, uh, brava. Perhaps the spring musical.” Cindra strops off stage.

Mr. Barakat calls out a final name, and Zayn plays one chord before a dancer leaps onto the stage, jumping and twirling and shocking the whole room into silence before leaping gracefully off stage behind the curtain and crashing into something that makes a terrible noise. Zayn stands up at the piano and leans over to see what fell, but says nothing.

The partner auditions start, and Calum considers leaving, but at this point free period is more than half over and there’s no point in going back to the gym where he’ll be yelled at for being late. A pair is on stage, speaking instead of singing, and waving their arms at each other as if they wanted to dance but never learned how.

Louis turns to Liam to ask why this is happening, but Liam’s eyes are glued to the stage, horror on his face, like it’s a car wreck he can’t look away from.

That audition ends and suddenly Calum’s not alone. “Hey!” Luke says quietly. “So, you decided to try out for something?”

“Uh, no, you?”

“No,” Luke shakes his head. “Why are you hiding back here?” Calum’s face must say it all. “Your friends don’t know you’re here, right?”

“Right,” he admits. Luke nods like he gets it. They both look at the stage where the next person to audition takes a deep breath when the music starts, and then… nothing.

“Thank you, next,” Mr. Barakat says. The student turns and dashes away.

“Mr. Barakat is a little harsh,” Calum says. He’s not hiding his nerves anymore.

“The wildcat superstar is… afraid?” Luke asks.

“No! Not afraid, just, scared,” Calum replies.

“Me too, usually.” Luke tugs at one of his sleeves. Mr. Barakat starts to talk again and they both duck lower in their seats.

“And for the lead roles of Minnie and Arnold, we have only one couple signed up. Louis and Liam, I think it might be useful for you to give us a sense of why we gather in this hallowed hall.”

Louis and Liam stands up. Louis pits an arm on his brother’s shoulder to stop him so that _he_ can walk out first.

“What key?” Zayn asks when they walk on stage.

“Oh, we had our rehearsal pianist do an arrangement,” Liam says as someone behind him rolls out the curtains and other people hold out a microphone for each of them.

Their instrumental version of the song starts playing over the speaker system, and two pairs of hands pop out through the center of the curtains, snapping to the beat. They sing the song together, already acting, and Mr. Barakat is clearly enjoying it. Zayn watches on, speechless.

Calum and Luke are watching from the back as Liam does a one-armed cartwheel and Louis does a little tap routine. If this is what theater entails, Calum is glad he didn’t decide to write his name down. Luke looks bemused.

“I told you not to do the jazz squares,” Louis whispers through a smile as they finish the song and other students start clapping.

“It’s a crowd favorite, everybody loves a good jazz square,” Liam says.

Louis looks pointedly at Zayn, who joins in on the applause.

“Are there any last-minute sign-ups?” Mr. Barakat asks, standing up.

“Don’t be discouraged,” Liam is saying to a girl who bombed her audition. “The theater club needs more than just actors, it needs fans. Buy tickets!”

Zayn cautiously approaches Louis. “Actually, if you do the song, I imagined it a lot slower—”

“ _If_ we do the song?” Louis fake smiles. It doesn’t reach his eyes. It’s on purpose; he’s a very good actor. “Zayn.” He puts a hand on Zayn’s shoulder. “My sawed-off Sondheim, I’ve been in seventeen school productions. And how many times have your compositions been selected?”

“This would be the first,” Zayn says slowly.

“Which tells us what?”

“That I should write you more solos?”

That was a point, of course. Louis steps forward as he talks, backing Zayn into the piano. “No, it tells us that you do not offer direction, suggestion, or commentary. And you should be thankful that me and Liam are here to lift your music out of its current obscurity. Are we clear?”

Zayn falls back onto the piano bench. “Yes sir, I mean Louis.”

Louis pastes on a bubblegum smile. “Nice talking to you,” he says into his mic as he walks away to join his brother.

“Any last minute sign-ups?” Mr. Barakat repeats. No one answers.

Luke looks at Calum, sudden determination in his eyes. “We should go,” Calum says, pointing to the door, but Luke stands up and walks out into the aisle. Calum has to stop himself from grabbing Luke’s arm and pulling him back.

“No? Good? Done.” Mr. Barakat picks up his clipboard and Calum lets out a relieved sigh.

“I’d like to audition, Mr. Barakat!” Luke calls already out of Calum’s reach. Calum feels like he could scream.

“Timeliness means something in the world of theater, young man. The individual auditions are long over, and there are simply no other pairs.”

“I’ll sing with her,” Calum says, not knowing how to bite his tongue when it came to Luke apparently. He stepped slowly out of the shadowy back row.

“Calum Hood,” Mr. Barakat said. “Where is your sports posse, or whatever it’s called?”

“A team,” Calum says. “But I’m here alone. Actually, I’m here to sing with him.”

“Yes, well.” Mr. Barakat walks up to them and Luke looks like he regrets opening his mouth. “We take these shows very seriously here at East High. I called for the pairs audition and you didn’t respond. Free period is now over.” Mr. Barakat walks by them.

“He has an amazing voice,” Calum says, and Luke blushes a little.

“Perhaps the next musical.”

Calum and Luke turn to watch him leave, until they hear something thud on the stage, and then Zayn is surrounded by papers. Calum rushes up the stairs to help, Luke close behind. He grabs the ones farthest away and carries them over to Zayn. “So you’re a composer,” Calum says. Zayn nods slowly, wide eyed. “You wrote the song Louis and Liam just sang?” Zayn nods. “And the entire show?” Zayn nods again. “That’s really cool. I can’t wait to hear the rest of the show.” He holds his hand out to help Zayn stand and Zayn takes it hesitantly. “So, why are you so afraid of Louis and Liam? I mean, it is your show.”

“It is?” Zayn asks, as if he’s genuinely never thought of it that way.

“Isn’t the composer of a show kinda like the playmaker in basketball?”

“Playmaker?” Zayn repeats.

“The one who makes everyone else look good. Without you, there is no show. You’re the playmaker here, Zayn.”

“I am?” Zayn smiles when Calum nods. “Do you wanna hear how the duet is supposed to sound?” He walks over to the piano, fishing out the correct page of sheet music from his stack. Luke smiles and follows him, so Calum does too.

Zayn starts playing the song Louis and Liam had just sung, but slower and less dancey. Zayn looks at Calum, so Calum sings the tune from memory and reads the lyrics off the page. Zayn starts singing the second part, but Luke comes in, voice strong, and Calum is surprised by how much better he sounds on an actual stage instead of in a crowd of people. Luke is also quick to pick up the harmony, so either he was lying about how good he was in choir, or there was a secret musical side of him.

Zayn tapers off after one verse and a chorus and smiles at them. “Wow,” Calum says wistfully. “That’s nice.”

“Hood. Hemmings.” Mr. Barakat walks back in from the back of the auditorium. “You have a callback. Zayn, give them the duet from the second act. Work on it with them.”

Zayn looks very excited. “So if you guys wanna rehearse, I’m usually here during free period and after school, and even sometimes during biology class. You can come and rehearse with me anytime. Or you can come by my house, I have a piano there too. After school, before school, whatever works. After basketball practice?”

Luke is smiling and listening intently, possibly taking notes. Calum is staring at the sheet music he’s just been handed. He can’t read sheet music. He barely has time to do his homework between basketball practice after school and again at home. And now he’s supposed to rehearse for a musical he doesn’t know if he even wants to be a part of, just because he can’t say no to Luke’s pretty blue eyes?

“Callback?!” Louis screeches, letting out a scream that echoes through the halls of the entire school.

Liam leans forward and reads the announcement sheet out loud: “Callback for roles Arnold and Minnie, next Thursday, 3:30 pm. Liam Payne and Louis Tomlinson, Luke Hemmings and Calum Hood.”

“Is this some kind of _joke?_ ” Louis shrieks, balling his hands into fists. Liam prepares to be punched. “They didn’t even audition!”

“Maybe we’re being pranked,” Liam says. “Or catfished? Maybe we’ll get to meet Nev Schulman!”

“Shut up Liam!” Louis says. Liam still hasn’t been punched but Louis is looking more and more like he might.

Ashton and the rest of the team – notably minus Calum – walk down the hall right as Louis looks like he’s going to throw a fit. “What’s wrong?” Ashton asks with a laugh. He walks up to read the notice board that Liam can’t stop staring at, and then his jaw drops. “ _What?_ ” he whispers, more to himself than anyone else. The rest of his teammates shuffle around so everyone can see Calum’s name on the board. Ashton looks around desperately at his friends and then leaves.

Louis looks at Liam. _This has to stop._

Louis is still ranting about it hours later in the cafeteria. “How _dare_ he sign up? I’ve already picked out the colors for my dressing room!”

“And, they haven’t even asked our permission to join the drama club,” Liam points out.

Louis slams his hand down on the table and Zayn jumps back. “Someone’s gotta tell him the rules.”

“Exactly,” Liam says. “What are the rules again?”

Louis groans and goes to stare out at the rest of the cafeteria. Everyone is chatting and milling about like nothing is wrong.

Harry is pacing for his own reasons near his lunch table. His teammates keep giving him weird looks but no one has insisted he sit down yet. “You guys know how I’m, like, really good at basketball?” His teammates exchange looks, _inconceivably somehow yes he is_. “But I kinda have my own secret thing, and I don’t want it to be a secret anymore.”

“A secret?” Ashton says loudly, and some people from other tables join their huddle.

“If Calum can share his secret then I can tell you mine. I bake.” Gasps.

“What?” Ashton looks personally offended.

“I love to bake,” Harry says. “Strudels, scones—”

“No way,” Jason says.

“Some day I hope to make the perfect crème brûlée.”

A chorus of variations of “No, stick to basketball” rings back to him like bells, and he sits down, clutching a basketball and trying to forget he said anything.

At another table, Lewis is with his friends, nose buried in a history textbook to prepare for the upcoming AP exams, but secretly listening to the commotion at the basketball table. Harry said he bakes? And the news spread quickly that morning about Calum singing, so maybe this is the perfect time for him to tell his friends… “Hey guys? Hip-hop is my passion.” Like ripping off a band-aid. His friends look shocked. “It’s just dancing.”

“That’s not who you are,” Jenny says. She points at his textbook. “ _That_ is who you are.”

“Sometimes I think it’s cooler than homework,” Lewis says, and the rest of the table vehemently agrees with Jenny. His place is in the library, not in the dance studio. Message received.

All the skater kids are chatting about their latest decks when suddenly Niall jumps up onto his seat. “Dudes, you gotta hear something. I play the cello!”

“Awesome!” Craig says. “What’s that?” Niall gestures holding his arms out like he’s playing a cello, and Craig’s eyes get wide. “A saw?”

“No, dude, it’s like a big violin.”

“D’you have to wear a costume?”

“Suit and tie.”

“Ew.” “Sell-out.” “How could you?” Niall looks around at everyone, and they all look disgusted at the idea of having to dress up for a hobby, as if they don’t wear helmets and pads at the skate park.

Louis is still standing at the edge of his table, looking over all the other students, hearing their confessions to their friends, getting more and more nervous. If people start questioning their social structure, where will that leave him? Sure, he has his looks to go on, but what happens if they decide that doesn’t matter either? He doesn’t even understand where all this is coming from. Is Calum Hood singing really that big a deal? It doesn’t have to be, especially if he doesn’t get the part. If Louis can claim his crown and make sure Calum’s callback stays nothing but a miserable attempt to switch circles, then so be it. Louis marches down the stairs to the main level of the cafeteria.

Luke walks in from the food line with Michael, who has a bagged lunch. The room goes quiet, and Luke leans over. “Why is everyone staring at us?”

“Not us,” Michael says. “You.”

“Because of the callback?” Luke asks, panicking. Michael nods like it’s obvious. “I can’t have people staring at me,” he says, holding his tray close as he weaves his way through the crowd. Michael, for his part, does his best to keep up. Luke isn’t paying attention to where he’s walking and slips on something spilled on the floor, making his lunch go flying, landing directly on Louis. Luke freezes and Louis lets out a piercing scream. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” Luke tries to pick fries out of Louis’s hair, but Michael drags him away before Louis can scream again.

Calum enters the cafeteria just in time to see Louis screaming at Luke, and tries to jump in to help, but Ashton grabs his arm. “You do not wanna get into that. Too much drama.” Calum watches as Luke and Michael leave.

“Yeah, okay,” he says, and sits down beside Ashton.

Mr. Barakat walks over to Louis, who’s still seething and covered in food. “What is going on here?” he demands.

“Look at this! That Luke kid just dumped his lunch on me! On purpose!” Louis yells, making a show of the food falling off of him as Liam tries to wipe it off with napkins. “It’s all part of their plan to ruin our musical! And Calum and his basketball robots are obviously behind it. Why do you think he auditioned? After all the hard work you’ve put into this show.” Louis forced himself to sound even more sad. “It just isn’t right.” He turns and stomps back up the stairs so he can go to his locker for a change of clothes. The crowd parts for him.

Mr. Barakat looks at Liam, who turns and follows Louis up the stairs, and then he leaves too, probably to go investigate the alleged musical sabotage.

Calum turns to Ashton once the drama has passed. “So what’s up?”

“What’s _up?_ ” Ashton asks. “Well, you missed free period practice to audition for some heinous musical, and now suddenly people are _confessing_ things. Harry?” Harry looks up at them from his lunch. “Harry is _baking_. Crème brûlée.”

“Oh? What’s that?” Calum asks, genuinely curious.

“It’s a creamy custard filling with a caramelized surface, it’s really satisfying—”

“Would you shut up, Harry?” Ashton says, and pulls Calum away from the table. “Do you see what’s happening here? Our team is coming apart because of your singing thing. Even the drama geeks and the brainiacs suddenly think that they can talk to us. The skater dudes are mingling.” Ashton points to where Niall and Harry are chatting. It looks perfectly innocuous. “Suddenly people think that they can do Other Stuff, okay? Stuff that’s not _their_ stuff. They’ve got you thinking about show tunes, when we’ve got a playoff game next week.” Ashton goes back and sits down at the table, leaving Calum alone carrying his lunch.

Alex sits at his desk, feet up, eating his sandwich and reading the school paper. There’s a cover article on how the basketball team is set for victory next week. He doesn’t doubt it. Calum’s photo is on the front page, reaching out to make a basket at the buzzer at their last game. He should mention to him how proud he is of that shot, at some point.

Jack takes a deep breath and walks into the boys locker room. He tends to avoid it because it’s sweaty and smelly and he knows less than nothing about sports, but he has to talk to Coach Gaskarth about Calum as soon as possible. Jack narrowly avoids being hit in the head by a rolled-up towel being tossed across the hall into a laundry bin, and students step out of his way, looking surprised. They poke their heads out of the locker areas to watch him go past, well aware of his feudal history with the basketball coach.

“Alright Gaskarth,” Jack says as he walks into the office. “Cards on the table right now.” He pulls off his glasses to glare.

“Huh?” Alex asks, mouth full of sandwich.

“You’re tweaked because I put your stars in detention and this is how you get even?”

“What are you talking about, Barakat?” Alex asks, taking his feet down.

“Your all-star son turned up at my audition. Now, I give every student an even chance, which is a long and honorable tradition in the theater – something that you wouldn’t understand – but if he is planning some kind of practical joke in my chapel of the arts—”

“Calum doesn’t even sing,” Alex says. He puts his sandwich down so he can eat in peace once Jack leaves.

“Well,” Jack says smugly. “You’re wrong about that. But, I will not allow my Twinkle Towne musical to be made into farce.”

Alex chokes back a laugh. “Twinkle Towne?”

“See?” Jack says, wagging a finger at him. “I knew it. I knew it!” He storms out of the office.

“Sounds like a winner!” Alex calls after him. “Good luck on Broadway!”

“Is Louis really really mad at me?” Luke asks Michael once they’ve settled at a table near the back of the cafeteria. “I said I was sorry.” He’s also down half a lunch, seeing as all he managed to hold onto was a cup of applesauce and an orange. The rest was on Louis.

“Look, no one has beaten out Louis for a musical since kindergarten.”

“I wasn’t trying to beat anyone,” Luke insists. “We didn’t even audition, we were just singing.”

“You can’t convince Louis of that. I’m telling you, if he could figure out how to play both Romeo and Juliet, his own brother would be out of a job.”

Luke sighs. “It wasn’t like that, it just happened. But I liked it… Did you ever feel like there’s a whole other person inside of you just waiting to come out?”

Michael thinks about it for half a second. “Not really.” Luke gives him a polite smile and looks down at his lunch options, settling on the orange.

Louis is at his locker, looking at his tragic reflection in the full-length mirror and trying to salvage his hair. At least Liam picked out all the fries.

Harry walks up and leans on the next locker. “Hey Louis, I just thought that since Calum is gonna be in your show—”

“Calum Hood is not in my show,” he says, silencing Harry with one finger. He goes back to picking which shirt he should change into.

“Um, okay, I just thought you could watch me play ball sometime or something?”

Louis frowns at him for a moment and then smiles. “I’d rather stick pins in my eyes.”

Harry looks confused. “But wouldn’t that be awfully painful?”

“Evaporate, tall person!” Louis barks, slamming his locker door shut and walking off to the nearest bathroom.

Harry is left stunned. “I bake!” he calls after Louis. “If that helps.”

Luke opens his locker to grab a book and a note falls to the floor. He picks it up and smiles to himself.

Calum is waiting for him on the roof in the greenhouse. He smiles when he sees Luke walk up the stairs, taking in the greenery all around them.

“Wow, it’s like a jungle up here,” Luke says, joining Calum near one of the railings.

“Yeah, just like that cafeteria.”

“Well I just humiliated myself into the next century.”

“No,” Calum says.

“So this is your private hideout?”

Calum nods. “Thanks to the science club. Which means my friends don’t know it exists.”

Luke grins at him. “You’ve got the whole school wired, don’t you Calum? Seems to me like everyone on campus wants to be your friend.”

Calum laughs lightly. “Unless we lose.”

“I’m sure it’s tricky being the coach’s son.”

“Makes me practice a little harder, I guess.” He pauses. “I don’t know what he’s gonna say when he finds out about the singing.”

“Are you worried?” Luke asks, and for the first time all day, Calum feels like at least someone gets it.

“My parents’ friends are always saying, your son’s the basketball guy. You must be so proud.” He looks at Luke, who’s looking sympathetically back at him. “Sometimes I don’t wanna be the basketball guy. Sometimes I just wanna be a guy, you know?”

“I saw the way you treated Zayn at the audition yesterday. Do your friends know that guy?” Luke walks around Calum to sit on a bench in between two large pots of flowers.

Calum stays staring out over the railing. “To them I’m the playmaker.”

“Then they don’t know enough about you,” Luke says simply. “At my other schools, I was the freaky math guy. It’s cool coming here and being anyone I want to be. When I was singing with you I just felt like a guy.” Calum smiles and sits next to Luke on the bench, and Luke turns a little to face him. “Do you remember in kindergarten, where you’d meet a kid and know nothing about them and then ten seconds later you were playing like you’re best friends because you didn’t have to know anything else about them?”

“Yeah,” Calum says softly.

Luke smiles at him. “Singing with you felt like that.”

Calum’s stomach does something weird, and he can’t tell whether it’s from the way Luke is looking at him or the thought that he was really ready to follow through on this audition. “Well I’ve never thought about singing, that’s for sure. Until you.”

Luke giggles cutely. “So you really want to do the callbacks?”

Luke looks hopeful, and Calum is starting to feel it himself, so he takes a deep breath. “Hey, just call me freaky callback boy.”

“You’re a cool guy, Calum. But not for the reasons your friends think.” Calum can’t look at Luke when he looks so sincere. “And thanks for showing me your top secret hiding place.” Maybe he can. “Like kindergarten.”

They smile at each other until the bell rings, and then before he knows what he’s doing, he grabs Luke’s hand and pulls him off the bench and back down the stairs so they’re not late for class.

From that decision on, the rest of the week is a whirlwind of rehearsals with Zayn, who teaches Calum the song without having to learn to read the sheet music – although he starts to understand what he’s looking at to a degree – and he finds himself sneaking away to the stairwell that leads to the rooftop greenhouse to practice. He realizes he sounds best in stairwells.

Liam is walking by the door at the bottom of the stairs one day and hears singing. He leans closer and puts his ear to the door. He wiggles the door handle, but it’s locked from the other side. He leans back in and the singing has stopped.

Luke is singing to himself in the bathroom during class, and he hears someone opening the door and ducks into one of the stalls. Louis walks in, looking suspicious, and looking for the singer. He karate kicks one of the doors fully open after peeking under each of them for feet. Luckily, he gets distracted by his reflection, fixing his hair in one of the mirrors before he leaves.

Alex is in the gym during after school practice, and again, his son isn’t there. The team is practicing fast passes. He reaches out to grab a ball before Jason can. Alex leans in, whistle between his teeth. “You seen Calum?” he asks.

“No coach,” Jason replies quietly. Alex isn’t sure if he believes that, but he hands the ball back to Jason and blows his whistle for them to keep going.

Calum jogs in – running late from painting sets, but this time because he wanted to – as everyone else runs out to the showers. Ashton gives him a look and shoves a ball to his chest as he walks by.

“I, uh, think I’m gonna stay a while.” Calum doesn’t look at his dad. “Work on some free throws.”

“Well since you missed practice, I think your team deserves a little effort from you today.” Alex turns to follow the team out, unamused. Calum lets out a breath and dribbles the ball a couple times. _Could have gone worse._

Calum is about a thousand free throws in, just short of playing Horse by himself, when he sees someone else walk into the gym out of the corner of his eye. _Luke._ He turns around.

“Wow,” Luke says, walking up to him. “So this is your real stage.”

Calum laughs. “I guess you could call it that.” Luke holds out his hands for the ball. “Or it’s the smelly gym.” Calum quirks an eyebrow and hands it over, and Luke shoots it straight into the net. “Whoa. Don’t tell me you’re good at hoops, too.”

Luke fetches the ball and holds it under one arm. “You know I once scored 41 points on a league championship game.”

“No way.”

“Mhm. Yeah and the same day I invented the space shuttle and microwave popcorn.”

“Microwave popcorn, funny.” Calum takes the ball back and makes another basket as Luke giggles.

“I’ve been rehearsing with Zayn,” Luke says.

“Me too, and, by the way, I missed practice, so if I get kicked off the team it’s on your conscience.” Luke starts to protest and Calum laughs. “Luke, chill.”

Luke grabs the ball out of Calum’s hands and sticks his tongue out, moving the ball around to keep it away from Calum. “Hey, that’s travelling,” Calum says, stepping toward him. Luke jumps around every time Calum halfheartedly reaches out for the ball. “That’s really bad travelling.” Luke starts to laugh, so Calum runs up to him and grabs him by the waist, picking him up off the floor. Luke still doesn’t let go of the ball, just laughs harder.

“Whoa,” Alex says from the doorway. “I’m sorry, this is a closed practice.” Calum puts Luke down and they both get quiet. Luke runs a hand through his hair.

“Dad, come on, practice is over,” Calum says with an uneasy laugh.

“Not til the last player leaves the gym. Team rule.” Alex gives Luke a once over, stone-faced.

“I’m sorry sir,” Luke says. He hands the ball back to Calum.

“Dad, this is Luke Hemmings,” Calum says. Luke holds out his hand to shake but Alex stares right at Calum.

“Ah, your detention buddy.”

“I’ll see you later, Calum,” Luke says, all laughter gone from his voice. “Nice meeting you, Coach Gaskarth.” And he turns and walks away. Calum watches him leave.

“You as well, Mr. Hemmings,” Alex says.

“Detention was my fault, not his,” Calum says.

“You haven’t missed practice in three years. That _boy_ shows up—”

“That boy is named Luke. And he’s very nice.”

“Making you miss practice doesn’t make him very nice. Not in my book, or your team’s.”

“He’s just a guy.”

“But you’re not just a guy, Cal. You’re the team leader. What you do affects not only this team but the entire school. And without you completely focused, we’re not gonna win next week. Championship games don’t come around that often. They’re something special.”

“Yeah, well, a lot of things are special, dad.”

“But you’re a playmaker,” Alex says, smiling in disbelief. “You’re not a singer.”

“Did you ever think maybe I could be both?” Calum asks. He can’t help his face falling. He drops the ball at his dad’s feet and walks out of the gym. Alex is left wondering what just happened.

Calum pushes open one of the double doors and walks off to the locker room, not noticing half his teammates standing right behind the other door, clearly eavesdropping.

Ashton looks around. “Let’s go.” They all follow him silently.

Calum is in the library the next day looking for a book for a project he really should have started working on last week, and Ashton won’t leave him alone. “What spell has this elevated-IQ temptress boy cast that suddenly makes you wanna be in a musical?”

“I just did it!” Calum says. “Who cares.”

“Who cares?” Ashton says loudly. “How about your most loyal best friend?” The librarian walks by and shushes him. “It’s him Mrs. Faulseff not me,” Ashton says, holding his hands up. “Look, you’re a hoops dude, not a musical singer person.” Calum sighs and walks further down the row of shelves. “Have you ever seen Michael Crawford on the back of a cereal box?”

“Who’s Michael Crawford?” Calum asks, pulling a book.

“Exactly my point. He was the phantom of the opera on Broadway. My mom? She’s seen that musical 27 times. She put a picture of Michael Crawford in our refrigerator. Not _on_ , in it. My point is, if you play basketball, you’re gonna end up on a cereal box. If you sing in musicals, you’re gonna end up in my mom’s refrigerator.”

“Why would she do that?”

“Who knows, some crazy new diet thing. I don’t attempt to understand the female mind, Calum.” The librarian shushes him again, more aggressively this time. “It’s frightening territory.” Ashton follows Calum to the table where he left his backpack. “How can you expect the rest of us to be focused on a game when you’re off somewhere in leotards singing Twinkle Towne?”

“No one said anything about leotards.” Calum opens the book up and tries to find the right chapter.

“Not yet, my friend, but just you wait.”

“We need you, captain. Big time.”

“Mr. Irwin,” the librarian says.

“I tried to tell him, Mrs. Faulseff.” Ashton stands up. “I really tried.”

Calum looks down at the book but his eyes aren’t taking in any of the words on the page, too stuck on Ashton’s words. If Ashton is so worried about him, maybe he is changing who he is?

Ashton walks into the robotics club classroom after school, followed by three of his teammates. Louis sees them entering a science classroom willingly and immediately clocks something’s off. He grabs Liam’s arm to stop him in his tracks and pulls him toward the classroom door. Ashton is talking to Michael, of all people, but they’re too far away and too quiet to hear what’s being said. Louis peeks his head in anyway.

Ashton stands at the table right next to where Michael is tinkering with some piece of metal. “We? Need to talk.”

Michael puts his screwdriver down. “Go.”

Louis manages to pick out Luke’s and Calum’s names.

“They must be trying to make sure those two actually beat us out,” Liam whispers next to him. “The jocks rule most of the school but if they get Calum into the musical then they’ve conquered the entire student body.”

“And if those science nerds get Luke hooked up with Calum, the robotics club goes from drool to cool. Liam, we need to save our show from people who don’t the difference between a Tony Award, and Tony Hawk.” Louis gives Michael and Ashton one last distant glare before turning around, Liam right behind him.

“You really think that’s gonna work?” Michael asks, narrowing his eyes at Ashton.

“It’s the only way to save Calum and Luke from themselves,” Ashton says. Michael nods slightly. “So are we on?”

“Yeah,” Michael replies.

“Good. We start tomorrow then.”

“First thing.”

“Nice.” Ashton eyes Michael for a little longer than necessary before he turns to his friends and nods for them all to leave.

Michael turns to see the rest of the robotics club gathered behind him and waves for them to go back to their work.

The next morning, Ashton peeks out from behind the school’s front steps. He darts across the landing and rolls to stand up right next to Michael. Ashton looks at his wrist, where he’s wearing three watches. Michael can’t imagine why. “My watch says 7:45 mountain standard time, are we synced?”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“Alright, then we’re on go-mode for lunch period, at exactly 12:05.” Ashton is staring intensely out across the lawn, like this is some kind of spy mission and he’s scanning the area.

“Yes, Ashton, we’re go.” Michael waves his hand in front of Ashton’s face. “But we’re not Charlie’s Angels, okay?” Michael hands him a webcam and the wires to set it up.

Ashton looks at him like his illusion has been shattered. “I can dream, can’t I?”

Michael rolls his eyes and heads to the club classroom to set up his part of the plan.

The lunch bell rings at 12:05. Calum is walking into the locker rooms instead of the cafeteria, because Ashton asked him to meet there. Must be important if Ashton is willing to miss lunch for it, so he goes. He finds Ashton, and the rest of the team, standing around a small table lined with picture frames and trophies, not sure what to say when he approaches them.

Ashton holds up a picture. “‘Spider’ Bill Natrine. Class of ’72. He was the MVP of the league championship game.”

“Sam Nedler, class of ’02.” Harry hold up another picture. “Also known as Sammy Slamma Jamma. Captain, MVP of the league championship team.”

Jason holds up a picture. “The Thunderclap—” the team claps in sync “—Hap Hadden, class of ’95, led the Wildcats to back-to-back city championships. A legend.”

“Yes,” Ashton says, bringing Calum’s attention back to him. “Legends, one and all. But do you think that any of these Wildcat legends became legends by getting involved in musical auditions? Just days before the league championships?”

“Get your head in the game!” the team chants.

“No, these Wildcat legends became legends because they never took their eye off the prize.”

“Get your head in the game!”

“Now, who was the first sophomore _ever_ to make starting varsity?”

“Cal!”

“So who voted him to be our captain this year?”

“Us!”

“And who’s gonna get our sorry butts kicked in Friday’s championship game if Calum is worried about an audition?” Ashton finishes.

“We are,” the team says in broken mumbles.

“Guys, come on,” Calum says, trying not to get upset. “There’s twelve people on this team, not just me.”

“Twelve?” Ashton asks. He holds his hand out and someone hands him another picture. “No, I think you’re forgetting about one very important thirteenth member of our squad.”

Calum looks at the picture he’s handed. “My dad.”

“Yes, Cal. Wildcat basketball champion, class of 1981. Champion, father, and now coach. It’s a winning tradition like no other.” Calum keeps his eyes down on the picture.

Michael has Luke seated in their club classroom and conveniently made sure their teacher was otherwise occupied. Luke is watching him make an impassioned speech about how Neanderthals evolved to become basketball players. Luke rolls his eyes and tries not to grin at how ridiculous Michael is being.

Michael switches from a badly photoshopped but impressively large printed photo of Calum’s head on some generic basketball player, to a laptop with a slideshow of famous intellectuals who he claims are from this alternate universe that he claims he and Luke are from.

Luke starts to ask what any of this has to do with him, and then changes course. “I’ve got Zayn waiting for me to rehearse—”

“Luke!” Michael says loudly, startling him back into sitting down. “Sorry. Calum Hood represents one side of evolution, and our side, the side of education and accomplishment, is the side of the future of civilization.” He gestures around to the rest of the club members. “This is the side where you belong.”

Calum is getting tired of this, and honestly, he missed breakfast and is ready to go get his lunch and eat something. “Guys, if you don’t know that I’ll put 110% of my guts into that game, then you don’t know me.”

Ashton looks at him. “But we just thought—”

“I’ll tell you what I thought. I thought that you’re my friends. Win together or lose together, teammates.”

Ashton moves over to one of the trophies and presses a button on the side of the little webcam he has set up. “But, suddenly this guy, and the singing…”

In the classroom, Michael has pulled up a live feed from the locker room, where Calum is talking to his teammates. “Man, I’m for the team! I’ve always been for the team! He’s just someone I met! Alright? The singing thing is nothing.” Luke feels his heart collapse. “Probably just a way to keep my nerves down, I don’t know. It means nothing to me. You’re my guys, and this is our team. Luke is not important, I’ll forget about him and I’ll forget about the audition, and we’ll go out and get that championship! Everyone happy now?”

Michael closes the laptop. “Behold, basketball man.” Luke looks down, blinking back tears. “So Luke, we’d love to have you for the robotics competition.” Michael looks at him and the rest of the team disperses but Luke stays in his seat. “Did you want to go grab some lunch?” Luke shakes his head. “Well, we’ll be there if you wanna come.” And Michael leaves too.

Calum walks out of the locker room, Ashton’s arm around his shoulders and the rest of the team following behind, cheering after his impassioned speech. Honestly, he doesn’t know exactly what he just said, but it’s left an icky feeling in his stomach that almost makes him lose his appetite. The team, however, ushers him out onto the front green, where a bunch of students are sitting around having lunch, and the cheerleaders are perpetually twirling their pompoms.

Luke glances out the classroom window to see Calum being hoisted on the shoulders of his teammates near the statue out in front of the school, clearly thrilled with everything he had to say in the locker room. The cheerleaders start their cheering, and suddenly the front lawn is like a party, lunches abandoned for better things.

Luke looks around the classroom where the little monster-looking robot Michael and the team have been working on is sitting in one corner, lined with tools. He doesn’t feel a pull to start messing with it anymore. He wonders for a moment how Michael knew Calum would be saying those things, but decides that regardless of the reason, he did say them, so on some level he had to mean it. Luke wanders out into the empty hallway and considers going to the cafeteria, but he’s definitely not hungry anymore. He could go out to the lawn and confront Calum, but not when he was surrounded by all his teammates. On second thought, Luke would be okay with never talking to Calum about it and forgetting the callback altogether.

He gets to his locker and sits down against it, not knowing where else to go. Lunch would be over soon anyway. What was Calum on anyway? Making him feel like some dream come true, like he was actually understood for once? He thinks back on singing with Calum, how easily their voices had blended together, how easy it was to forget the rest of the world existed when it was just the two of them… Students start filing back in and then the bell rings for the end of lunch. Luke gets up and pulls his books out to go to class.

“Hey,” he hears Calum’s voice behind him and doesn’t turn around. “Listen, there’s something I wanna talk to you about.”

“And here it is.” Luke turns around. “I know what it’s like to carry a load with your friends. I get it. You’ve got your boys, Cal. It’s okay. So we’re good.”

“Good about what? I was gonna talk to you about the final callbacks.”

“I don’t wanna do the callbacks either.” Calum looks surprised, but Luke doesn’t know why. “Who are we trying to kid? You’ve got your team, and now I’ve got mine. I’ll do the robotics competition and you win the championships. It’s where we belong.” He hands Calum the sheet music for the song they’d been rehearsing and closes his locker.

“But I—”

“Me neither.” Luke leaves for class, and Calum stares after him, speechless.

It’s finally warm enough to practice outside, so the team is stretching and warming up after school. “Hey, captain!” Ashton calls when he sees Calum join them. Ashton tries to hand him a ball and Calum shakes his head and turns to the track to run laps instead.

Alex looks out the back door that afternoon to see Calum shooting free throws, and missing every one of them. He’s never seen his son so off his game. Calum misses three in a row and then hurls the ball at the fence in frustration, making it rattle and shake. He groans and lays down in the grass, hands over his eyes against the sunlight.

Calum almost walks to his regular table in the cafeteria the next day, and then halfway there, decides not to. He glances around and spots an empty table. Just as he starts to walk toward it, he almost walks straight into Luke. Luke looks at him with wide eyes, kind of sad, and then ducks past him without a word. Calum looks back to see Luke disappear around the corner, away from his usual table as well. Ashton waves at Calum from their table and Calum ignores him.

Ashton makes eye contact with Michael, who looks equally concerned. They both look at each other, understanding that they messed up big time.

Calum is on the roof, in the greenhouse. He poked at his sandwich before deciding he’s not hungry after all, so it just sits there beside him on the bench. He turns around when he hears footsteps coming up the stairs, hoping somehow that it’s Luke. It’s not. It’s Ashton and Harry and Jason. And Calum is not in the mood, but short of flinging himself off the roof, there’s nowhere for him to run.

“Hey,” Ashton says. Calum looks at him. “We just had another team meeting.”

“Oh, wonderful,” Calum says sarcastically.

“We had a team meeting about how we haven’t been acting like a team. Us, not you. About the singing thing, we—”

“Dude, I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“We just want you to know we’ll be there, okay? Cheering for you.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah,” Harry chimes in. “If singing is something you want to do, we should be boosting you up, not tearing you down.”

“Win or lose, we’re teammates,” Ashton says, smiling. “That’s what we’re about. Even if you turn out to be the worst singer in the world.”

“Which, we don’t actually know, because we’ve never heard you sing,” Jason says.

“And you’re never gonna,” Calum says. “Because Luke won’t even talk to me. And I have no idea why.”

“We do,” Ashton says quietly. Calum stares at him.

“I baked these fresh today,” Harry says, pulling a bag of chocolate chip cookies out of his lunch bag. “You probably wanna try one before we tell you the rest.” Calum takes the bag from Harry, still staring.

“Luke?” Michael says softly. Luke is in the club classroom, looking between a calculator and a chalkboard full of programming equations. Luke looks up for a moment and goes back to his equations. “I was a jerk,” Michael says. “No, worse than that, because I was a mean jerk. I thought that Calum and the whole singing thing was killing our chances of having you on the team.”

“I heard what he had to say,” Luke says. “I’m on your team now. Done.” He reaches for his calculator but Michael puts his hand on it.

“No, not done. I knew that Ashton could make Calum say things to make you want to forget about the callback. We planned it, and we’re embarrassed and sorry.”

“No one _made_ him say all those things. And you know what? It’s okay. We should be preparing for the competition now so it’s time to move on.”

“No! It’s not okay!” Michael pleads. “This competition is, whatever but how you feel about us as your friends, and even more, Calum, that’s what really matters.”

Luke looks at him. To his benefit, Michael does look sorry. But that doesn’t change anything Calum said, and they both know it. He shakes his head and goes back to his equations, not looking away until Michael has left the room.

Calum ditches his bike at the edge of Luke’s yard and walks up the path to the front door and knocks. Luke’s mom answers. “Hi, Ms. Hemmings, I’m Calum Hood.”

“Oh, Calum,” she says, smiling. Calum takes that to mean Luke hasn’t told her anything that happened in the last couple days. She looks back into the house, where out of Calum’s sight at the top of the stairs, Luke is peeking down and shaking his head no. “Um, Luke is kinda busy with homework and such, so now’s really not a good time.”

“I made a mistake, Ms. Hemmings,” Calum says. “And I would really like to let Luke know that. Could you tell him that I came by to see him?”

“I will, Calum.” She keeps smiling.

“Thank you,” Calum says.

“Goodnight,” she says and closes the door softly.

Calum walks out to the edge of the path and looks up at the house. One of the rooms has to be Luke’s. He pulls up Luke’s number on his phone and calls, looking for movement in any of the windows. Unpredictably, Luke answers. “None of what you heard the other day is true,” Calum says all in a rush before Luke decides to hang up on him. “I was sick of my friends riding me about singing with you so I said things I knew would shut them up. I didn’t mean any of it.” He catches someone pacing near a window upstairs just inside a balcony.

“You sounded pretty convincing to me,” Luke says.

“Listen. The guy you met on vacation is way more me than the guy who said those stupid things.” Calum makes his way to a huge tree that leans close enough to the balcony that he can hop right over, as long as the branches hold him.

“Calum, this singing thing is making the whole school crazy. You said so yourself, everyone’s treating you differently because of it.”

“Maybe that’s because I don’t only wanna be the basketball guy anymore. They can’t handle it. But that’s not my problem, it’s theirs.” He hoists himself up over the lowest branch and from then it’s easy climbing.

“What about your dad?”

Calum pulls himself up higher, and now he’s level with the balcony. “It’s not about my dad. This is about how I feel. And I’m not letting the team down, they let me down. So I’m gonna sing. What about you?”

“I don’t know, Cal,” Luke says softly.

Calum jumps over the railing and onto the balcony. “Well you need to say yes. Because I brought you something."

Luke stops pacing. “What do you mean?”

“Turn around.”

Luke turns, and Calum is standing on the balcony. When he pulls open the door, Calum starts singing quietly, the song they sang at the new year’s party. Luke starts to smile. Calum pulls out the folded sheet music from his back pocket. “It’s a pairs audition.”

Luke walks over and takes the papers from his hand and then goes to lean on the balcony railing. Calum lets out a quiet sigh of relief before turning around, and then they’re standing shoulder to shoulder.

The next day at practice, Alex notices Calum’s skills are magically back. He’s running the plays perfectly, and hasn’t missed a shot all day.

Michael is watching from the side as Luke explains to a few freshman team members how to program conditional actions into their robot, grinning to himself when one of the younger students gets it right and Luke gives her a high five.

The team makes sure to let Calum shower first so that he can make it to rehearsal as fast as possible.

Luke watches as Michael whirrs their little robot around and crushes an empty can, maneuvers around a puddle of water, and chops a pencil in half. Michael points to the clock and Luke tugs off his goggles, hanging them on a hook before dashing out of the classroom to get to rehearsal.

Calum is waiting at the corner near Luke’s locker for all of two seconds before Luke is running up and grabbing his wrist to go meet Zayn.

Louis and Liam have finished rehearsing their number on stage, so they’re on their way out of the building when they walk past the music room. Louis stops humming his solo to lean in and listen to Calum and Luke singing. He gasps.

Liam looks worried. “Wow. They sound good.”

Louis shushes him and walks closer to the door, peeking in through the window to see Calum and Luke sitting together, singing in perfect harmony with Zayn on piano. He turns around and stares down his brother. “We have to do something.” He starts walking faster toward the front door. “Okay, our callbacks are on Thursday. The game and the robotics competition are on Friday.” He stops in his tracks and Liam jumps sideways to avoid walking into him. “Too bad all these events aren’t happening on the same day. At the same time.” He smirks.

“Wait, but that wouldn’t work, because then Calum and Luke wouldn’t be able to make the—” Liam grins. “I’m proud to call you my brother.”

Louis soaks in the compliment. “I know.”

Zayn is at the piano on stage, making last minute notes for himself on his sheet music. Calum and Luke are doing great, he doesn’t want to do them a disservice by being less than his best. He hears footsteps followed by the unmistakable sound of Mr. Barakat’s voice telling whoever is with him to settle down. And then, right as they walk into Zayn’s line of sight and he sees that it’s Louis and Liam trailing behind, “If you’re telling me, as co-presidents of the drama club, that changing the callbacks would be what’s best for our theater program then,” he pauses for dramatic effect, “I might actually agree with you.” Mr. Barakat walks off in the direction of his classroom and Louis stands there proudly.

“Is that a yes?” Liam asks hesitantly. Louis winks at him – of course it’s a yes, no one says no to him – and flounces away, again humming his solo. Liam follows. Zayn watches them go, glad none of them noticed he was even there, and worried about what will happen with Calum and Luke if both of them are busy during their callbacks.

Zayn is staring at the updated theater notice board Monday morning – all callbacks rescheduled to Friday at the same times – when Calum and Luke walk up to him along with their friends. Calum’s jaw drops. “The callback’s the same time as the game?”

“And the robotics competition,” Luke says.

“Why would they do that?” Michael asks.

Ashton frowns. “I smell a rat named Barakat.”

“Actually it’s two rats, neither of them named Barakat,” Zayn says.

“Do you know something about this?” Ashton asks.

Zayn nods. Does he ever. “Mr. Barakat might think he’s protecting the show, but Louis and Liam are only concerned with protecting themselves.”

“Do you know what I’m gonna do to those two over-moussed show dogs—” Ashton says, but one of his friends grabs his shoulders to stop him from raging off.

“Nothing,” Calum says, thinking. “We’re not gonna do anything to them. Except sing. Maybe.” He looks at Luke and then at the rest of the group. “Alright, now this is only gonna happen if we all work together. Now who’s in?” He holds his hand out and Luke immediately puts his hand on top. Zayn joins next, and then the rest of the groups puts their hands in as well. They all look around at each other. Whatever this plan is, it better work.

GAME DAY  
CALLBACK DAY  
ROBOTICS IQ CHALLENGE DAY

Friday morning, Luke and Michael and the rest of the robotics club are in the club classroom talking about last-minute adjustments to their robot. Calum pokes his head in and none of them notice, so he and Ashton tiptoe in and cover Luke’s and Michael’s eyes with their hands while Harry carries in a round cake with a little cartoon robot sitting on top.

“Oh my god,” Luke laughs when he sees the cake.

Ashton points to Harry, who smiles. “He’s made of chocolate.”

“That’s so cool!”

“Oh we have something for you too,” Michael says, and he pulls Ashton across the room to where they have a whiteboard set up with a lot of math that Calum can vaguely identify as physics, if only by their diagram of a basketball player shooting a basket.

“Oh!” Calum says, not knowing how to fake excitement for numbers he doesn’t understand. “Equations…” Ashton gives him a confused look.

Luke and Michael laugh and flip the board over to where they’ve written “Go Wildcats!” which makes a bunch of basketball-patterned balloons fall from the ceiling, and Luke and Michael start hitting the balloons in the basketball team’s direction, so they hit them back.

A few minutes later, the basketball team is tearing through Mr. Barakat’s classroom, where Louis and Liam are already sitting, looking smug. Ashton pulls on Liam’s arm to get them to follow him to the doorway, so they can see the team’s shirt reveal, letter by letter, spelling out GO DRAMA CLUB!

“Well,” Mr. Barakat says, eying the team with a healthy dose of skepticism. “Seems we Wildcats are in for an interesting afternoon.”

The 3:10 bell rings for the end of school and everyone piles out of the classrooms, filling the hallways with cheers for the basketball team. Some students carry posters, some carry noisemakers, and they all funnel into the gym, where the marching band is already going and the cheerleaders are running routines.

Alex slips on his suit coat and walks over to Calum in the locker room, where he’s tying on his shoes. “How ya feeling?” Alex asks.

Calum looks up at him. “Nervous.” About the game, about the plan, about the callback…

“Yeah, me too,” Alex says. “Wish I could suit up and play alongside you boys.”

“Hey, you had your turn.”

Alex smiles and sits down on the bench across from his son. “You know what I want from you today?”

“The championship.”

“Eh, that’ll come or it won’t. What I want is for you to have fun.” Calum looks surprised. “I know all about the pressure, and probably too much of it has come from me. But what I really want is to see my son having the time of his life playing the game we both love. You give me that, and I’ll go to sleep with a smile on my face no matter how the score comes out.”

Calum smiles cautiously. “Thanks Coach. I mean, dad.”

Alex clears his throat and gives Calum a pat on the back before leaving the locker room.

Luke’s mom follows a handful of other parents into the room where the robotics challenge is being held.

Luke sees her and smiles a little, still nervous, but this time with a team by his side. He looks over at the other team, who are crowded around their robot.

“Welcome to this year’s Robotics IQ Challenge,” a teacher says from the center of the room. “East High Wildcats versus West High Knights. Each team will have to put their robot through an obstacle course, followed by a series of smaller controlled challenges.”

Mr. Barakat once again has his table set up in the auditorium, with a red tablecloth this time instead of blue. His student assistant is preparing the clipboard as he greets a few other staff members who care about the arts more than sports, the way it should be.

Zayn is playing through a couple tricky spots so he can get them perfect when the time comes.

Louis and Liam are in one of the dressing rooms, doing vocal warmups and breathing exercises to get ready for their performance.

Mr. Barakat checks his student assistant’s watch. Almost showtime.

The basketball team runs into the gym to a sea of cheers and applause.

The robotics teams set their robots down on the floor.

Mr. Barakat is finishing up his speech about how casting roles for a show is a joy and a burden. “Shall we soar together,” he finishes, and someone snaps a photo for the school paper. Everyone claps and he sits down. “Louis and Liam,” he calls. The music starts. The pair comes dancing onto the stage to a salsa beat draped in glitter and feathers, and Mr. Barakat looks appropriately impressed.

The basketball game starts and East High wins the opening tip.

Luke and Michael hold their breaths as their robot turns the last corner just half a second before the other team’s. The judges add up the scores for how well both teams did, and East High wins the first challenge by two points, sending the team and their parents into a flurry of applause.

Louis and Liam are singing and dancing their hearts out. Zayn rolls his eyes and checks the time on Mr. Barakat’s student assistant’s watch.

Michael looks at the clock and grins at Luke. Any moment now, their robot will start spinning and sparking so viciously that everyone else will be asked to evacuate while their team gets their robot under control. Luke has also programmed a bug into the scoreboard in the gym, so the lights will start flashing and the sports nerds won’t know how to fix it. It’ll fix itself in about fifteen minutes, but nobody else knows that. Meanwhile, hopefully, they’ll stop the game due to safety concerns and Calum will be able to make a run for the auditorium.

The overhead lights go out in the gym just as the scoreboard starts flashing wildly, and the buzzer goes off like a fire alarm. Calum stops running right as the ref blows the whistle for a time-out. Both teams stay still on the court until Ashton runs up to Calum and motions for him to leave. Calum runs for the side door, and the announcer says the rest of them will have to evacuate the gym temporarily until they can make sure it’s safe. Ashton gathers the rest of the team and they run out the back door, but instead of going to the locker rooms, they turn toward the auditorium as well. Alex follows them out and watches as they disappear down the hallway, only hesitating for a moment before following them.

Louis and Liam are still singing. They climb a gold, glittery ladder under a disco ball and finish the song with jazz hands and big smiles. Mr. Barakat looks proud of them, and the rest of the drama club applauds. Louis takes a second bow.

“Do you see why we love the theater, people?” Mr. Barakat says, walking up onto the stage as Louis and Liam step side stage. “Well done.” His student assistant runs up to hand him the clipboard and he calls out Calum and Luke’s names. And then repeats them.

“They’ll be here,” Zayn insist quietly.

“The theater, as I have often said, waits for no one. I’m sorry.” He doesn’t sound sorry.

Zayn turns and walks off stage before he says anything to get himself kicked out of his own show. Louis gives Liam a sly smile.

“Well, we are done here. Congratulations to all. The cast list will be posted Monday.”

“Wait!” Calum bursts through the back doors. Luke is right behind him. “Mr. Barakat, wait! We’re here, we can sing!”

Mr. Barakat sighs. “I called your names. Twice.”

“Mr. Barakat, please,” Luke says.

“Rules are rules.”

The drama club students are beginning to get up and leave, but then the basketball team is filing in through the back doors, and then the rest of the robotics team, and the cheerleaders, and everyone else who followed them out of the gym.

Louis walks up to the three of them. “We’ll be happy to perform it again for our fellow students, Mr. Barakat.” His eyes are bright at the prospect of such a large audience.

“I don’t know what’s going on here, but in any event, it’s far too late, and we have not got a pianist.”

“Well, that’s showbiz,” Liam says.

“We’ll sing without a piano,” Calum says.

Zayn runs back onto the stage to join them. “Oh no you won’t. Pianist here, Mr. Barakat.”

“You really don’t wanna do that,” Louis hisses.

“Oh yes, I really do.” Zayn gives a little salute and goes to sit at the piano.

Mr. Barakat raises an eyebrow. “Now that’s showbiz.” He leaves the stage to go back to his table, and Louis and Liam huff their way back to the side of the stage to begrudgingly watch the performance. Louis still hopes it’s an utter trainwreck.

Calum hands Luke a mic and takes a step back, motioning for Zayn to start. Luke is frozen to his spot. He’s staring out at the audience, and then he looks at Calum, terrified. The music is going, but neither of them are singing, and the audience doesn’t know how to be quiet. Calum looks back at Zayn and they meet eyes. Zayn nods that he’ll keep playing, like an extra long intro while Calum walks closer to Luke.

“I can’t do it, Calum,” Luke whispers. “Not with all these people watching.”

“Hey,” Calum grabs Luke’s hand as he’s about to walk away. “Look at me. Just at me.” Luke does. “Like the first time we sang together. Remember? Like kindergarten.” Luke gives him a tiny nod and Calum turns to Zayn, who stops improvising and loops back around to the beginning of the song. Calum looks right into Luke’s eyes as he starts to sing. Someone brings down the dark blue backdrop behind them.

Luke sings his line right on cue, and Calum takes his hand gently.

Next thing they know, they’re both getting into the swing of the choreography, and most of the students are clapping to the beat.

Michael is watching them in awe. He had no idea Luke could be that confident.

Ashton goes from sitting to standing, clapping along, and the rest of the team stands up alongside him until they’re all dancing a little as they watch Calum on stage.

Alex is standing at the back of the auditorium, watching his son sing. Not just sing, sing _well_. He doesn’t even realize he’s started clapping too until he looks down at his hands.

Mr. Barakat drops his clipboard. With this type of crowd reaction, it’s clear who’s getting the role.

Louis and Liam are still seething in the shadows.

Calum and Luke finish the song standing side by side, the way they started, but less nervous by far. They smile at each other while they catch their breath. Calum gestures to Zayn, who stands from the piano and takes a bow. They look out into the audience and both see their friends, their teams, cheering for them as loudly as they can. Luke takes Calum’s hand, giving it a squeeze, and then Calum leans in to give Luke a kiss on the cheek, making him blush.

Calum is back in his game. There’s 15 seconds left and the wildcats are down by one point. Jason manages to block the other team’s basket and someone passes the ball to Calum, who runs down to the other end of the court. He goes right, passes the ball to Harry to distract the other team’s defense, and then gets the ball back, shooting it clean through the net one second before the buzzer for an even two points, making them official championship winners.

Calum finds himself surrounded by his teammates, all yelling and cheering. Alex carries over the championship trophy, and Ashton immediately takes it and hands it to Calum, who is then hoisted onto the shoulders of two of his teammates while they all continue to yell and scream.

They put Calum down and run off with the trophy to take pictures, and Alex grabs Calum’s arm and pulls him into a hug. “I’m proud of you son.”

Mr. Barakat taps Calum on the shoulder. He looks extremely out of place in the gym. “Um, bravo,” he says.

“Brava!” Alex says back, and Jack starts laughing.

Calum tears away when he sees Luke, who smiles broadly and jumps into his arms. “Congratulations!” Luke yells above the chaos.

“What about your team?” Calum asks.

“We won too!”

Calum beams at Luke and starts to lean in for a kiss, when Ashton cuts in to hand him a basketball. “Team voted you the game ball!” Ashton says, unaware that he interrupted anything, and then runs off.

“Thanks a lot,” Calum says, and Luke giggles.

Ashton catches Michael’s elbow with his arm, swinging him around until they’re facing each other. “So, you’re going with me to the afterparty, right?”

“Like on a date?” Michael scrunches up his nose.

“Must be your lucky day,” Ashton says.

Michael darts over to Luke and pulls him away from Calum. “Ashton just asked me out!” he says, and Luke cheers for him.

Louis appears next to them, Liam in tow. “Well congratulations,” Louis says to Luke. “I guess I’m your understudy in case you can’t make one of the shows so…” He gives Luke a glare for effect. “Break a leg.” When Luke looks effectively horrified, Louis laughs. “That means ‘good luck.’”

Louis is almost back out the door when Harry stops him. “Hey! Louis! I’m sorry you didn’t get the lead, but I think you’re really good. I admire you so much,” he says earnestly.

“And why wouldn’t you?” Louis asks. “Bye.”

Harry steps back in front of him. “Wait, I baked you some cookies,” he says pulling them out of his duffel bag.

“Ew?” Louis says before he leaves.

Liam takes the cookies from Harry and gives him a sympathetic smile. “Good game.”

“Thanks.”

The afterparty might as well start right then. The marching band starts back up and everyone empties out of the bleachers to dance on the gym floor. Calum thinks he sees Mr. Barakat dancing with their mascot. When a conga line led by the mascot passes by them, Calum manages to pull Luke behind the bleachers to give him a real kiss, and Luke almost melts into it.

Half an hour later, the gym floor is littered with balloons and confetti. The scoreboard is still lit up with their scores from the game. Harry is wandering through the balloons, kicking one every so often to watch it float up and then back down. Louis runs into the gym at top speed, stopping at the edge of the basketball court, looking angry. “Harry!” he yells. Harry turns around. “These cookies are genius! The best things I’ve ever tasted! Will you make some more for me?” he asks aggressively. Louis shoves his way through the balloons and practically leaps onto Harry’s back.

“I might even make you a crème brûlée,” Harry says with a grin, and Louis cheers, nearly knocking them both over.


End file.
